


"i'm too sober for this."

by fuckinglevi



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Birthday Party, Drug Use, Drugs, F/M, Fluff, Levi x Reader - Freeform, One Shot, Reader Insert, Recreational Drug Use, Seriously Super Fluffy, Weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 19:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17310638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckinglevi/pseuds/fuckinglevi
Summary: Levi never quite cared for his birthday. But it was an excuse to get high, a greater excuse than “because we’re in the car and I just want to.” It had become somewhat a tradition at parties like these, but it had been awhile.He would never forget how to roll a blunt; it was like riding a bike. And he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed sharing smokey kisses with you while you were hotboxing his car, or how there was just something about a fresh joint that always easily brought his friends together.





	"i'm too sober for this."

**Author's Note:**

> warning: mentions of alcohol and lots of weed usage! read at your own risk!

Loud music, the scent of alcohol, and pure body heat filled the living room. Lights were off and the group of about 25 people were talking loudly, each one of them drunk off of something.

 _Happy fucking birthday to me_ , Levi thought, sinking even farther into the couch he sat alone on.

Fuck his friends. He's decided to tell them all to officially _fuck off_ for good. Hell, he's debating breaking up with his girlfriend after pulling a stunt like this.

_What part of no more parties or alcohol don't they understand?_

The last time Levi got drunk, it was Halloween, so not too long ago. And the man had a problem: he simply did not know how to stop drinking. Furthermore, he seemed to surround himself with people who didn't know how to _make_ him stop. He had been told that Hanji was just pushing shots of vodka in his face, and Levi, in his drunken state, kept drinking them. Who was he to turn them down?

By the time someone - you - found him, he was laying in the bathroom floor barely breathing. He had fucking alcohol poisoning, and had to go to the hospital to have his stomach pumped.

Does he remember any of this? No, he doesn't. All he remembers is waking up in a hospital bed, still half drunk, and then dry heaving into a bucket for an hour.

To make a long story short, Levi was done drinking alcohol. He couldn’t drink it even if he wanted to - the taste was ruined for him, and every time he tried drinking any of it, he couldn’t get it down.

And for some reason, his stupid friends didn’t understand that. The only reason Levi ever enjoyed going to a party was so he had an excuse to get shitfaced, and seeing as he can’t do that this time, he was not enjoying himself. The group of people in front of him were, though, taking shots and having a good time. They were feigning celebration for Levi’s birthday, but there was no reason he should even be here.

But no, _you_ had to go and throw a surprise party in his own apartment, so he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

He told you over and over again: _no birthday party_. Did you listen? The better question is, do you _ever_ listen?

There you were, staring right at him from the stool you sat on in the kitchen. Speak of the devil. He watched you wave goodbye to Hanji before strolling over to him.

You pressed your face into his ear. “Are you having a good time?”

“What the fuck does it look like?” he said into your ear. His hands found your arms, and pulled you down so you were sitting next to him.

“Why not?”

He sighed. Everyone around him was a fucking idiot.

“Because,” he started, but it was no use. He wanted to tell you to get all of these people out of his home, but his conscience wouldn’t let him send all of these people out to drive drunk. “I’m too sober for this.”

You smiled at him, and pulled him by the hand to stand. Dragging him through the crowd of your drunk friends and down the hallway, you made it to your shared bedroom. You turned the light on and strolled inside. The light was bright, almost blinding.

“What the fuck do you want?” he asked, the burning of his eyes only adding to his irritation. The bright room was a stark difference to the dark living room he had been sitting in earlier, which was illuminated only by the TV. You were digging around in your nightstand while he leaned his back against the closed door.

“You said you were too sober,” you said, turning around when you found what you were looking for.

You held a small, circular container in your hand. Levi let out a sigh.

Sweet relief.

He snatched the container from your hands. “Open the window.”

You tossed him a purple packet. “Grape?” he grumbled, and you just giggled as you made yourself comfortable on the bed.

You crossed your legs and leaned back against the headboard. “It’s the best.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed. “I told you to open the window,” he said, eyes looking down at the tray that now sat in his lap.

“It’s too cold for all that.”

“I’m not having our room smell like weed for the next month.” He opened the container, and then looked back up at you. “My car still fucking stinks.”

You huffed, but opened the large window anyway, letting in the cold winter air. You even lit the two candles that sat on your nightstand, and then sat back on the bed.

Levi cracked the cigarillo open with his hands and dumped the loose tobacco into the small trash can that sat next to the bed. After filling it back up with the grinded weed from the container, his skilled fingers tucked and rolled the blunt. He held the unfinished cigarette up to your face, and you grimaced.

“Can’t you do it?”

“No,” he said flatly, so you stuck your tongue out and licked the edge that was sticking up. “I like watching you do it.”

You rolled your eyes and moved your tongue down the blunt, and he after a moment he pulled it away to press it down and finish rolling it. Then, he pulled a lighter out of his pocket and ran it along the seam.

After it was finally finished, he moved the tray away off his lap and onto the end of the bed, and then lied on his back with the unlit blunt held loosely between his lips.

He felt the cool breeze on his face, and it was relaxing. The music coming from the living room was muffled, and a song he hadn’t heard before was playing. He was trying to make out the words when the taste of sugary grape hit his tongue.

He pulled the blunt out of his mouth with a sigh. “You could’ve gotten a better flavor, you know it is _my_ birthday.”

You giggled again, still feeling a slight buzz from the drinks you had earlier. “They were out of mint!”

He raised his eyebrows, not quite believing you, but it didn’t matter. The only thing he wanted was to light the blunt and feel away from here for at least an hour.

You watched his lips purse around the end of the blunt before he lit it. He took a deep inhale, his chest beginning to heat up already, before pulling the blunt away and breathing out a puff of smoke. He didn’t really care to inhale any of it at the moment.

He breathed a sigh of relief, eyes still closed. “Thank god for this.”

He heard you giggle again as he brought the blunt up to his lips once more, taking a deep breath, inhaling the smoke this time. His lungs tingled, and his mouth was already dry. You watched as he breathed out another cloud of smoke quickly, and you wanted to bend down and kiss him, until he held the blunt up to you, and you took your turn.

“Eren would be pissed if he knew we were doing this without him.”

“When have I ever cared?”

“You’re right,” you replied through your coughs. “Here.”

He held his hand up, eyes still closed, and you put the blunt between his awaiting fingers. He held it between his lips a moment, before taking in another draw, the cherry burning brighter the deeper he breathed.

The music sounded quieter, now, but so did everything. It was almost as if he put on sound canceling headphones.

He hit the last half of the blunt two more times before handing it back to you, mumbling, “Just put it out when you're done.” He could hardly hear himself speak.

“Well, are you going to go out and enjoy the party, or are you going to fall asleep in here?”

“Definitely the latter,” he said, latching his hands over his chest. Getting high wouldn’t help him enjoy a party - hell, it would probably make him more irritable - but it would help him sleep.

You lied down beside him after putting out the light of the blunt and setting it in the ashtray. Pressing kisses along his sharp jaw, you hooked a leg over his thigh.

“Happy birthday,” you mumbled, smiling against his cheek.

He tucked his arm behind you and rubbed your back in response. He never quite cared for his birthday. But it was an excuse to get high, a greater excuse than “because we’re in the car and I just want to.” It had become somewhat a tradition at parties like these, but it had been awhile.

 _I’m getting older,_ he told himself. _I have an important job. It’s time to stop acting so childish._

He would never forget how to roll a blunt, though; it was like riding a bike. And he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed sharing smokey kisses with you while you were hotboxing his car, or how there was just something about a fresh joint that always easily brought his friends together.

He was well over the edge by now, and finally his mind wasn’t moving 100 miles per hour. Everything was slow: the music playing, his hand rubbing your back, his breathing. He almost forgot about the mess his apartment was probably in, or about all of the drunken idiots in his living room. He was able to think about nothing but your lips pressed against his skin.

He opened his mouth to speak, and that’s when he realized the taste of smoke was still on his tongue. He spoke passed it, though. “Kiss me.”

“I am,” you giggled, before raising your head and looking at his face. He looked relaxed; you could tell that he was letting himself succumb to his high, which wasn’t something he always did. You were only slightly buzzed, though you did admittedly smoke less of that blunt than Levi, but you also had a lower tolerance than he did.

“Come on,” he said, a slight smile on his lips. His voice was breathy and flirtatious, and his fingers curved into your back.

You moved your face so it was hovering over his, messing with him a little more before finally pressing your lips against his. He sighed against your lips, making a small moaning sound, but he didn’t even hear himself - all he was able to think about was your lips on his.

He let you control the kiss, favoring to just go with whatever flow you created. It was soft and slow, and your tongues had yet to meet. You were just enjoying the feeling of each other’s lips, enjoying how calm and relaxed of a moment this was. Tender moments weren’t something the two of you shared often, especially at a party.

You pulled away and spoke, without opening your eyes, “Happy birthday.”

“You already said that,” Levi mumbled, finally opening his eyes to see your calm face hovering over his. “ _Kiss me_ ,” he said with a huff, and you opened your eyes.

“You already said that,” you said with a smile, but you didn’t hesitate any farther to do what he asked. You deepened the kiss this time, putting a hand on his cheek, and he could almost taste the remnants of alcohol and weed lingering on your tongue.

The cold breeze blew through the curtains once again, causing your skin to tighten into goosebumps. You wanted to pull away and ask if you could close the window, but Levi’s warm lips were way too captivating.

The cold winter air wasn’t the only thing interrupting the moment. All of the sudden, the door swung open and a loud voice interrupted your hot kiss.

“I _knew_ I smelled weed,” Mike’s proud voice boomed, causing you to pull away from Levi with a jolt, “Eren, they’re smoking without you!”

“What the fuck?!”

Eren stormed into the room, demanding you pass him the blunt, followed quickly by Hanji and Jean.

You were sitting up now, but Levi was still laying on his back, doing his best to ignore the ruckus. “Just take it in the living room, we’re done with it,” you told them as you handed Eren the last half of the blunt. You didn’t want the entire party to be moved into your bedroom - not only would that piss Levi off, but it would ruin both of your highs.

Eren led the small group back into the living room, holding the blunt up in the air as if receiving it was a victory.

“You gave the roach away,” Levi said, looking up at you.

You only shook your head and pointed to the tray that still sat at the bottom of the bed. “If you want to smoke a roach so bad, roll another joint.”

“No,” he said, sitting up. “I will, however, go tell Eren that if he eats it, it’ll get him even higher.”

You rolled your eyes at him, and stood to close the window. As you were closing it, you felt Levi’s strong arms wrap around you, immediately warming you up, and his lips pressed against your cheek.

Your hands rested on his forearms as he kissed you, and with a smile, you said two words one final time. “Happy birthday.”

Maybe Levi was surrounded by complete idiots, but at least he had something that could take the edge off every once and awhile.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is welcome.


End file.
